


Foreigner

by LibertinePast



Category: Cobra Kai (Web Series), Karate Kid (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-09-23 16:22:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17083685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LibertinePast/pseuds/LibertinePast
Summary: (Now in an easier-to-digest chapter form)Post-tournament, LaRusso Auto starts a risqué new ad campaign. Johnny doesn't like it, for...reasons.  Head games and twists-of-fate entangle them again. As always, they are growing up the hard way.





	1. Break It Up

**Author's Note:**

> Changing this from a series to chapters all in one place. (now that I know how to use AO3 a little better). Also, I dusted off my limited HTML knowledge from 1999 to add pictures!
> 
> Thank you to all of you who like, lurk and comment. This fandom is amazing! I guess I'm a little sad that I won't be able to get kudos on each part anymore, ;) but this will make it easier to read.
> 
> All chapter titles are Foreigner songs. :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new LaRusso Auto commercial strikes a nerve for Johnny.

Any song could be used in a commercial now. Johnny couldn’t get into Foreigner the way he used to. During “Double Vision” all he could think of was that ad about 2 for 1 cheeseburgers. “Cold as Ice,” some arthritis cream.

There was a dark, musty “feeling old” factor when the songs that defined your youth became jingles.

Maybe your formative tunes being sold out wasn’t as bad as them being ruined by something painful. “Blue Morning, Blue Day” now reminded him of rushing a five-year old Robby to the hospital, after the boy had eaten a sandwich covered in cocktail peanut residue from Johnny’s sticky countertops. That song used to light Johnny up- headbanging and air-drumming. Now he only remembered the sound of his kid wheezing in the back seat of the Firebird, the screech of Shannon yelling at him later. Robby’s convulsing little shirt that said “Yo! Gabba Gabba!”, whatever that meant.

Music was like a nasty woman who could fill him with euphoria and just fuck off all at once.

He was watching TV in the dark, in a soiled wifebeater. Something he hadn’t done in a while, not since before the tournament. His Coors balanced precariously on the lumpy arm of the chair. His eyelids were sinking shut, and he heard Foreigner’s “Urgent.” A half-smile flashed across his drooping mouth until he opened his eyes to Daniel on the TV screen.

“Just wait and see how urgent our liquidation sale can be.”

“LaRusso, you _didn’t_ ,” he snarled.

“How urgent, you ask? We’ve got fire in our veins to clear this lot, and you won’t believe how fast we can approve your credit.”

Besides wanting to put a hole in the TV, (again) he realized that karate was mysteriously missing from the ad. LaRusso wasn’t in his usual stuffy Italian suit either, but a tight fit leather jacket and blue jeans, flirting with the camera. And probably for the first time in his pathetic yo-yo existence, he had a scruff of facial hair. It didn’t fully connect, but it framed his face heinously well, emphasizing a good chin that had lost a certain degree of punch-a-bility.

For the first time, LaRusso looked like a grown man.

“So don’t wait. Get down here. _Right now_ ,” he crooned.

The warm beer on the armrest was pouring out into Johnny’s lap, and it took until the commercial faded out for him to notice.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Daniel drummed the table as the marketing director, Sandy, showed them a Power Point presentation about the new ad campaign. “As you can see, website and foot traffic is up since the launch. YouTube commenters are saying things like, quote, ‘ **the thirst is real,’/ ‘Seen this guy on TV for years and never got THOTTTTTY til now’/’HELL YEAH.’”**

Daniel sunk a little in his seat as Amanda rubbed his shoulder feistily, snickering “Uh oh, should I be worried?”

“C’mon…” he said, “Internet comments? Are you sure these people aren’t just yankin’ our chain?”

“Well, consider this,” the marketing director said. “A focus group of people aged forty to sixty- the target consumers for luxury vehicles- reacted very positively, too. They said things like, **’The song takes me back.’/ ‘I felt like the jiu-jitsu ads were some inside joke I didn’t understand. I get this!’** ”

“Jiu-jitsu?” Daniel huffed in offense. “Seriously? I don’t recall rolling around with the prices on the pavement and choking them.”

"And lastly,” the director went on awkwardly, “‘ **It’s so assertive. It’s Fifty Shades of Audis!’** ”

Daniel cringe-smiled. “Who said that- Counselor Blatt?”

“Dan-iel,” Amanda nudged, “Since when do you balk at a compliment? The ad is doing more than just kicking the competition, it’s making it take a cold shower.”

“I mean…if it’s effective, great, but...I just don’t feel like I’m being true to myself.”

“Well, it’s still campy, which honors your personal taste, but just with a sexier edge,” Sandy smiled with crow’s feet blooming in her temples.

“Oh, so my personal taste is _campy_.”

Amanda threw him a look of _do not walk out on this meeting._

Daniel stormed out of the room to take his chances on his fate.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He went to his car and found Johnny leaning up against it with folded arms, Aviator sunglasses, and hole-y jeans.

“The hell?…” Daniel began. “What is this? Get your acid-washed butt off my car and get out of here.”

“Pull that new ad or else.”

“What? Who are you, the FCC?”

“You don’t fuck with Foreigner. What’s next? ‘I Want to Know What a Loan Is?’ ‘Waiting for a Grille Like You?’ You’re really sick, man!”

Daniel looked more guilty than offended. “Look, OK…it wasn’t my idea. It’s the new marketing team.”

“Yeah right. That had you written all over it.”

“The song isn’t the problem in my opinion, alright? It’s the whole tight clothes and facial hair thing.” He scratched his chin. “It’s so itchy, I don’t know how you take it.”

“I shave, asshole. And I don’t care if you’re naked in the stupid ad, you take that song out and replace it with something else.”

“The script quotes the lyrics, it wouldn’t make any sense.”

“Oh, and your complimentary little pot of poison sumac _does?_ Dub in fucking mariachi music and call it a day.”

“Yeah, OK, great marketing strategy, Johnny. Do you work for the firm Kermit the Frog went to when he had a head injury?”

“You keep Muppets Take Manhattan out of your mouth, man. Is nothing sacred to you?”

“Wait a minute. So you’re not gonna have a field day with the provocative tone of the commercial?”

“No, I gotta say, that part was actually kinda convincing,” he grinned. “In a…creepy, dressed up like a moldy shower curtain sort of way.”

“Johnny, I’m not in the mood for your games. I just sat through the meeting from hell reading focus group commentary, OK? Somebody called the ‘kick the competition' campaign _jiu-jitsu.”_

Johnny blenched. “That’s rough, man. I’m sorry. People can be so ignorant.”

“Right?”

Johnny was inspired by the emptiness of the lot on a Thursday morning. “And instead of chopping the prices, you would’ve done something like this.”

Johnny seized Daniel’s shoulder blade and did an outer reap on his leg, pinning him to the lot. He put all his weight on one leg and caused Daniel to choke himself with his own arm. Daniel jutted his shoulders and turtle-shelled down, hooking his legs around Johnny’s neck. Johnny tried to raise up out of the triangle hold to slam Daniel into the ground, but Daniel bucked and threw him off.

“Damn…” Johnny grunted. “That’ll do, pig.”

“Just because I don’t like it doesn’t mean I don’t know it,” Daniel said, breathing heavily from a crouched position.

“Same.”

Another voice reached them in this awkward moment. “Oh my fucking God,” Anoush laughed, running over. “The feud goes MMA! You do realize the whole service department just looked out the window and saw that, right? I swear, this shit is such a fascinating journey into the human condition. Does the whole world just disappear when you guys get into it?”

The two men looked at each other and didn’t answer.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


	2. Double Vision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johnny and Miguel bond over Star Wars. Johnny can't stop bringing up LaRusso.

 

Johnny was feeling the aftermath of ground-sparring on blacktop. He slouched across the parking lot of his apartment complex that afternoon, kneading his neck where LaRusso had head-locked him with his legs.Johnny was paying for showing off, that was for sure.

He kept cursing himself.  Puke Box Hero had some quadriceps to be reckoned with in those scrawny legs now. Even when squirming for breath under Johnny’s grapple, Daniel had been strong enough to throw him. Johnny thought about this and felt his own throat constricting again. This was why jiu-jitsu sucked, Johnny decided. Two people rolling around choking each other with style. The close confines had unnerved them. 

Nobody usually ended a fight wide-eyed, like dogs that realized they were devouring the same strand of spaghetti.

They had anticipated each other’s moves in a way they never had before. Femoral had thrashed against carotid. There was a burn on Johnny’s arm from LaRusso’s newly-acquired stubble.

Anoush had left them to collect his “MMA Thursday” bet winnings. Before they parted ways at the dealership, they cleared their throats and shifted mindlessly. Johnny didn’t bring up the commercial again, and Daniel actually ended up apologizing for something unspecified. That should’ve been funny, since Johnny had instigated everything. He felt no satisfaction from it.

Of course, LaRusso had tried to get the last word in. _“By the way, that shower curtain smelled a hell of a lot better than you did after sprintin' across a field in a lycra bodysuit.”_

" _Yeah, I’m sure.”_

As Johnny approached his apartment, he knew how this was going to go. He’d turn on the TV and there would be that commercial again, taunting him, boring into him.

He found his apartment unlocked, Miguel loafing on the couch inside.

“How the hell did you get in here, Frito Bandito?”

“Seriously?” Miguel scoffed. “You gave me a key, remember?”

 “I did?”

 “Uh, yeah. You brought me along to Home Depot when you had it cut?”

Johnny shrugged.

"You got me a key cover for it with a snakeskin pattern?” Miguel nudged again, holding up the key.

 “Oh, right. Whatever.Mi casa, your casa. See, I paid attention in Spanish class.” He slumped down on the couch, groaning under his breath from muscle strain. “What’re you watching?”

 “ _Star Wars Episode III, Revenge of the Sith._ ”

 “Bull-fucking-shit. They don’t need an episode three, you just imagine it on your own. You kids have no imagination. Don’t you ever just stare out a window or something?”

 “Yeah. During one of your lectures,” Miguel snickered.

 “Dick.” Johnny picked up a warm beer from the coffee table and took a swig. “…I took Ali to see _Return of the Jedi._ Afterwards I surprised her with an Ewok stuffed animal. She was so stoked.Little did I know it turned her on to hairy, jittery twerps with giant eyes.”

 “I hope it was sitting on her bed staring into her empty soul,” Miguel said with fresh bitterness, thinking about Sam and Señor Octopus.

 Johnny side-eyed him as they kept on watching the movie. Anakin dragged himself through the smoldering lava. _“Grrrgh!”_

  _“You were the chosen one! It was said that you’d destroy the Sith, not join them!”_ Obi-Wan cried. _“Bring balance to the force, not leave it in darkness!”_

 “Balance,” Johnny snorted. “Crock of shit.”

 The Jedi master picked up his saber and began to scale the hill, leaving Anakin in the hellfire at the bottom.

  _“I HAAAATE YOouU!”_ Anakin roared, sounding like the death-metal singers Robby listened to.

 Johnny laughed. “So cheeseball, man.”

 “He just cut his legs off.”

 “Still. Nobody straight-up screams ‘I hate you’ at the top of their lungs. Not even me, and I'm badass.”

 “Please. That would be you if LaRusso cut you off at the White Castle drive-thru.”

 Johnny took a long sip of his beer.“Why would I be at White Castle if I was on fire?”

 “Seems pretty aligned with your priorities.”Miguel was still a little miffed that Sensei completely forgot giving him a key, so he decided to have some more fun. “So if you two shared the same girl, technically, you guys have-“

 “Dooon’t fucking pull that shit. _My_ Ali was a virgin, thank you very much. So if anything, LaRusso slept with _me,_ not the other way around. Joke’s on him.”

 “That…doesn’t sound any better.”

 “You want me to give you a stoma with that key and rip your voice box out?”

 They sat in silence for a bit, and watched the crippled Anakin being reconstructed into Dark Vader.“See, this part reminds me of LaRusso right here,” Johnny said. “You think he’s finished, he’s toast- but psyche! He’s primed to take over the fucking galaxy.”

 They were still sitting there when _A New Hope_ followed on the TBS marathon. Sensei had downed a few more beers, and was beginning to slur his words. “Oh, there’ss our optimistic hero LaRusso, gonna save the day. Waay too big for his space-britches,” he burped.

 “I thought he was Vader, now he’s Luke?” Miguel sighed.

 By the trash compactor scene, Johnny was in rough shape. They watched the slimy creature slither under the floating trash as the heroes looked around in panic.

 “Wai-wai-wait. Diaz. Know what that thing rerminds me of?”

 “Let me guess. LaRusso,” Miguel groaned.

 “Uhnno. No,” Johnny stammered, indignant. “It’s Cobra Kai.”

 “Oh, it’s us. Right. We nest in liquid garbage, is what you’re saying.”

 “Damnstraight. An’ watch what we’re gonna do to LaRusso,” he said, as the creature dragged Luke under the surface of the murky water.“Pull him under an’ squeeze him. Play with ‘im a little. Feel that scrappy heart goin’ a mile a minute. Watch his eyes plead. Maybe a lil’ bite.”

 “Sensei, should I be worried about you…?”

 “What. You don’ like my director’s commentary? You’re such a girl. ‘Don’t talk during the movie _,”_ he said in a squawky voice. _“‘_ Don’t bogart the popcorn. Don’ fly LaRusso’s drawers on the flagpole.’”

 ”That was a thing when you were in school?”

 “Umm, that was _the best_ thing.”

 “If you can’t stand someone, why would you want to touch their underwear?”

 

 Sensei never formulated an answer for that, and was asleep in a few minutes, to Miguel’s guilty relief. There was a whole other dimension to the story, that was for sure.A galaxy far, far away. Miguel regarded the older man sadly.

 “…hey…” Johnny said, his eyes still closed. “Can you…put on some foreigner…?”

 “I don’t know how to work that tape deck thing,” Miguel said.

 “…oh, right…you prob’ly only have a turntable….plebe.”

 Miguel shook his head, wondering what decade it was in Sensei’s mind right now. There was a blanket on the back of the couch and he draped it over Sensei’s slumped form like he was a child. “I gotta go,” he said.

 

“….you’re alright, larusso….” Johnny murmured after the door closed, his eyes still unopened.

 

 

 


	3. Blue Morning, Blue Day

 

Johnny woke up staring at the underside of his coffee table like a casket lid.  He was somewhat aware that it was morning. His mind was a jumble of car lots and galactic battles.  The beer sugar in his molars made them ache, like he’d bitten into a gumball older than Miguel.

He and Diaz were always shooting the shit, but he had a feeling he’d shot a little too much shit last night.  He wasn’t usually the type of person who went all sodium pentathol when he was drunk. He also wasn’t sure what the actual truths in the recesses of his mind _were._ He didn’t want to know.

He heard his phone ringing and patted his hand around on the carpet until he found it.  He flipped it to his ear and the blaring trumpets of _“El Jarabe Tapatio”_ blasted through his skull. “The fuuuuck?” 

“You wanted mariachi music, you got your frickin’ mariachi music,” a nasally voice said on the line.

“LaRusso, I swear to God!-“ Johnny whined, his chin to the carpet.

“Hey, you don’t have to open up shop til what, 4? I thought it would make a nice wake up call.”

“…can’t leave well enough alone with your lame-ass pranks…!”

“Right, ‘cause drawing crooked dicks on people’s faces is high-brow comedy.”

“…Could you please not talk so loud…” Johnny moaned.

“I’m _not.”_

“…look, man….about yesterday.” Johnny rolled out from under the coffee table.  There was something about being on the phone instead of in person that reduced the popping blue veins in his head, if only a little. “I’m…just, don’t overdramatize it, don’t go filing restraining orders or something.”

“Oh, I’m sure you could wallpaper the dojo with your collection of those. I can’t say I haven’t thought about it, and having Aisha make a viral video of your face when the summons gets delivered.”  

“I wasn’t trying to fucking kill you, I was just messing around.”

“And got served. You underestimated me, per tradition. At least you reaped my better leg.”

“Eh, luck of the draw, like I know which is which,” he lied, the image in his mind of his elbow to Daniel’s left knee in crisp HD.

“Listen…about the ad.  Believe it or not, I thought about what you said. I won’t milk the 80’s nostalgia cow anymore, in the campaign. The music licensing costs an arm and a leg anyway.  I made a compromise with the marketing people. I’m stuck with the whole sexual innuendo crap for now, but I’m putting my own stamp on it: ’triangular bonsai-trimming innuendo.’ _”_

Johnny snickered so hard at the total seriousness in Daniel’s voice— snot almost came out. “Uhh, yeah, _that’ll_ get the chicks wet. What about the pussy hairs on your face, you doing away with those?”

“Nah,” he said, stroking his scruffy chin. “I’m keeping it for now- I got you good with it during the skirmish. I never thought of it as a defense.”

“Yeah, I’ll counter it with a copy of _Pat the Bunny_ next time,” Johnny chuckled, looking over the red mark on his arm. “Y’know, it’s majorly historic that you’re actually heeding a threat, for once. Good. I really don’t want to associate Foreigner with your dumb face,” Johnny said, remembering that he already had, that night of whiskey and regret in in the doomed Firebird.  

“So there’s gonna be a next time? You’re still an asshole, but that sparring was…it was a rush. I won’t lie.”

“…ok, fine. It was alright. Finally got the rematch that never happened that night at your place, when Robby…” he trailed off.

“Dut-dut-dut-dut,” Daniel said, not sure he’d ever shushed someone in this hallowed way. He didn’t want to remember how that day months ago had ended. “Let’s just agree that it’ll happen again sometime.”

“What, like a Fight Club or something?”

“Oh my God, Johnny Lawrence knows a movie from the 90’s.”

“Book,” Johnny corrected. “I know how to read.”

“Alright. It’s settled. Just not at the dealership again, OK? My wife doesn’t know about yesterday, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

 “Right, like all the grease monkeys in the shop who were taking bets are gonna keep their mouths shut?”

 “Nah, they will. They’re doin’ the walk of shame ‘cause Anoush said most of them bet on _you._ ”

 “ _Niice._ Give those guys a raise,” Johnny grinned. “So, when did you cheat on karate with jiu-shit-su, anyway?” He was fidgety. If his phone had a cord, he felt like he’d be twisting the spiral on his finger.

 “You can’t cheat on karate, Johnny, but it was in college. There were a lot of muggings around Cal State. Muggers don’t wait for you to get up off the ground.”

 “So all you do is guard position. Good to know.”

 Daniel couldn’t believe he was about to ask this, but it just came out. “…well….why don’t you come by Miyagi-Do later? Check out the rebel base.”

 “I dunno, does it have a bathroom?”

 “Uh, yeah? I did it over nice, it’s like the Beverly Willshire in there.”

 “Good. I’ll drop in, take a big shit and leave.”

 “C’mon, Johnny.You can’t keep pretending my dojo doesn’t exist.”

 “It’s pretty easy when it has no paying students,” he snickered.“Alright. Fine. I’ll check my colon’s schedule and work around it. Maybe even try that grapple again, if you’re lucky.”

 “Later, pig.”

 When they hung up, Johnny thought about Fight Club again.Maybe Daniel LaRusso was just a figment of his imagination. LaRusso was no Tyler Durden, but Johnny was, and maybe a white collar dweeb was somehow _his_ paradigm.

* * *

 Daniel hadn’t specified a time for Johnny, so of course he showed up at an awkward one.  Robby and Sam were practicing _Seipei,_ a kata with a lot of stomps and turns, when Johnny walked in the door.  The bamboo wind chimes were _t-tunking_ up a frenzy as the kids reversed to a position facing him, jerking to a stop.  Johnny tensed up as well.

 “Dad,” Robby said softly. “I-I don’t know if….you should-”

 “Relax, River Phoenix.Your sensei invited me. I, wasn’t expecting….a-anyway, I’m probably just gonna clog the toilet and leave.”

 Sam’s face said it all, and Robby stifled a laugh. “Uhh, okay?…Mr. LaRusso will be right out, he’s just changing.”

 Johnny's eyebrows rose of their own volition.

 He started to look around so he could bypass the long-winded tour that LaRusso undoubtedly wanted to give. Yeah, this place was as meticulously thought out, clean and Asia-philic as he’d expected. All that was missing was a panda munching bamboo leaves in the corner, looking at him with disdain.

 Johnny noticed the lovingly placed details, the pictures of young LaRusso and Miyagi. He imagined a different version of Cobra Kai —not as frou-frou as this, of course- but with photos of himself and Kreese hugging and smiling. He pictured “Love is Here to Namaste” doing downward dogs under the beautifully framed images. _Feel the energy!_

 LaRusso came down the back hallway in his gi, turning on an essential oil diffuser on a little hand-painted console.Today’s cocktail would relieve inflammation and improve over-all mood, he smiled to himself.He saw Johnny standing there surrounded by shoji, wearing flannel and workboots, looking like some sort of animé lumberjack in the wrong cartoon.

 “Holy shit. You actually showed up,” Daniel smiled.

 Johnny hadn’t seen Daniel wear a gi since, well, the last time. There was more of him filling it, not that he was hefty at all. Still, heftier for a white crane. The flower headband looked especially strange above the scruffy face. Johnny wondered how they always got in this configuration— him on the left, Daniel on the right. Depending on where the spectators were sitting. He felt like Kreese, just standing still, looking at Daniel intently without a word.

 “Well? What do you think?”

 “That you look like a fifty-year old dude dressed up like Daniel LaRusso for Halloween. I wouldn’t wear that costume outside the Valley. No one will get it.”

 Daniel laughed heartily as Sam and Robby side-eyed each other.Robby remembered the camaraderie that had flowed from them that night they stumbled into Mr. Larusso’s home dojo. He had no idea how it had boomeranged back like this, as if the tournament never happened.

 “So, let me give you the grand tour.“

  _Knew it._ “Look, I get the aesthetic,” Johnny sighed.“I’m more interested in results. My dojo might only have mats, mirrors and a mini-fridge, but I’ve got results.”

 “Ah, okay. Robby, Sam, you want to show him what we’ve been working on? Let’s drop some bodacious _bassai dai._ ”

 Sam cringed, as she usually did when her father was being embarrassing, as goofily endearing as he could be.She imagined a demonstration of the Spinning-Hug move, Mr. Lawrence looking on with delighted rejection like Kyler.

 Sam and Robby moved as one without a hitch, using nothing but pointed hands at first. Then, lightning legs. It was Olympic-level kata, whether it was your personal cup of tea or not. Johnny watched with a laser blue gaze, thumbs in pockets. He kept the rest of his fingers balled up, as Miguel had taught him, to control the rising jealousy he felt.

 Daniel tried to read Johnny’s expression, but was coming up with nothing.

 They demonstrated a few more things, but Robby’s synchrony began to falter. Johnny noticed that the boy kept clearing his throat, and one of his eyelids looked bigger than the other.

 “Robby?…” Johnny swallowed hard, his hands going up. “Stop, stop. What’s going on? What did you eat?”

 Robby reached for his father like a child. “...Nothing bad, nothing that touched anything else at all. I don’t understand.” 

 Johnny figured out what the smell in here reminded him of— DiSaronno. “LaRusso, what the hell is that humidifier thing queefing up over there?”

 “What, just chamomile and sweet almon— _oh_ SHIT, Robby!? I didn’t even—“

 “Fuck,” Johnny sighed.

 Daniel stabbed at the buttons to shut the diffuser off and ushered everyone into the adjoining room. Sam felt horrible. She had wanted to tell her dad that aromatherapy seemed a little extra, but she had a weakness for his eyes lighting up when he talked about such things.

 Daniel was absolutely mortified. “Johnny, I’m so— I know about his nut allergy—I-I never make pesto when he stays for dinner.”

 “It’s not just about food, fat ass!”

 " _You_ just asked him what he ate right off the bat, genius!”

 Robby looked back and forth at them. They reminded him of a divorced couple, or his anaphylaxis was making him lose his grip on reality.

 Johnny snapped his fingers at Sam. “Wake up, Veruca, call 9-11, _now!_ ” he shouted. He wasn’t going to drive Robby to the hospital himself this time, that was for sure.

 “On it,” the girl nodded, her phone in shaking hands. “It’s okay, Robby.”She never knew what to say in a crisis. She only knew how to Uber her way out of them.

 “OK, kiddo, where’s your Epilady?” Johnny asked with a pained smile. Robby knew Johnny knew that was a hair remover, not the name of his injection pen. He was thankful they had at least one inside joke in his 16 years.

 “Backpack,” Robby shivered, pointing to a tufted bench.

 “Point, Lawrence,” Johnny whispered, remembering trashing his apartment looking for it when Robby was five.

 “Are those things guaranteed to stave off the worst of it until the ambulance gets here?” Daniel shivered.  He was completely ignorant about this. He felt like Snoopy running to get a glass of water when someone fainted, then just standing there drinking it.  Comedically useless.

 “I-I’m not sure, I’ve never like, _vaped_ nuts before.” Robby stuck the Epi-pen in his outer thigh, wincing. 

 Daniel’s eyes were misted over. He wanted to be struck down.  Well, if this ended badly, Johnny would probably do so with the decorative bamboo. “Robby, I’m so sorry.”

 “It’s okay, Mr. LaRusso, you just made a mistake.”

 Daniel was breaking. He imagined Anthony laying into him if he’d put him in this predicament. _You’re so stupid, Dad!_ He visibly braced himself for Johnny to lash out- _Oh, so_ _how many chances does_ ** _he_** _get?_ or something of the sort _._ Johnny was thinking all of that and then some, and couldn’t deny that he was relishing the fact that Charles in Charge had screwed up with his young ward.The devastated look on Daniel’s face stopped those thoughts cold.

 “They’re coming,” Sam said. “Hang on, River Phoenix,” she sighed to Robby, then eyed Johnny.

 Johnny flashed Sam a weak line of a smile. “Cause of the hair,” he gestured awkwardly around his jawlines. “Well, and the drugs.”

 Daniel buried his eyes and nose in his hand and looked like he wanted to scream into a paper bag. Then he chewed on the cuticle of his thumb like he’d done on the sidelines of the entire ’84 tournament.

 Robby was lying on a mat between the two men, his face puffy and red, feeling more and more trapped by his constricting throat. “Dad,” he wheezed, fumbling around until he gripped his father’s hand. 

 Daniel was embarrassed by his jealousy, on top of everything else.Johnny and his son had been through this together before, that was clear.

 Robby’s breathing was becoming more labored. _If a man can’t breathe, he can’t fight,_ Daniel heard Terry Silver sneer. Everything was spinning.“ _Please, God_ ,” Johnny saw Daniel mouthing, a wisp of sound coming out.

 Johnny’s temples were aching. “You know, _now_ would be the time to pull out some of your pretty little mind techniques?” he gestured at Daniel.

 “I can’t.”

 “Yes you can.”

 “No,” Daniel moaned, pulling his bandana off and kneading his forehead. “Fear exists in _this_ dojo, alright? I can’t stuff my feelings away like a nerd in a locker, like you do!”

 “You think that’s what I’m doing? I _need_ …your help. Robby and me both. Please.”

 Daniel finally realized what Johnny was trying to say.He nodded tamely.He held Robby’s opposite hand as Johnny continued to clutch the other. “Robby…listen to me. It’s never been more important for you to be focused on your breath. Settled, not stirred. Notice your thoughts, just notice them, and let them go. You’re stronger than a whole field of almond trees, okay? Nothing can come between you and your breath. Nothing.”

 “Nothing,” Robby repeated intently, his eyes closed, pushing each breath through his swollen throat.

 Daniel looked up from the boy quickly and did a double take at the look on Johnny’s face, one that he’d never seen before.There was fear there, definitely, but also eyes that were large and stricken with complete adoration. They knelt there, joined by slow, deliberate breath and Robby’s hands.

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	4. Luanne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The past is never far behind, even in a hospital waiting room.

 

 

 

Johnny peeled out in the Challenger with Daniel in shotgun, following the ambulance. At one crazy interesection, Johnny had to slam on the brakes, and his right arm flew out across Daniel. They let out their breath and didn’t look at each other for the rest of the ride.

 Daniel didn’t have much experience with hospitals, beyond Amanda’s profanity-laced births of their children. Everyone who’d gotten sick in Newark had been laid up in the smothering confines of home, and in that tradition, he’d brought an ailing Mr. Miyagi to Escalon Drive and never let go. 

 Johnny was strangely at home sitting on a hard plastic chair in a waiting room. He’d spent Robby’s birth in one when Shannon threw him out of the delivery room. Yelling Cobra Kai mottos at her during labor wasn’t as motivating as he’d thought.

There had also been the night of Laura’s accident— the doctor with the terrible bedside manner as he told him the news. Johnny still visibly flinched whenever someone took it upon themselves to call him “Jack.”

 Daniel was still wearing his gi and felt like some sort of volunteer clown, right at home at the Children’s Hospital of Los Angeles. The only thing missing was the lotus headband he’d discarded on the floor at Miyagi-do, den of student endangerment.

 God, all the plots he would’ve come up with if Johnny had made an honest mistake like this at Cobra Kai. Having him shut down by the health department, finagling a newspaper article from his connections at the Valley Tribune: _“Nutty Negligence at Local Dojo.”_

He would’ve destroyed him and wondered why it had done nothing to ease his mind, or evict Johnny from it.

He wasn’t sure if anything could, after the way they’d looked at each other in the dojo, Robby’s recumbent form between them like a tea table.

Daniel didn’t know what he would’ve done if Johnny hadn’t been there.

 Johnny wanted to climb into a biohazard container.In the dark and covered in used hypodermic needles, maybe he could forget Daniel caring for his son and teaching them how to breathe. Hanging on Daniel’s words mindfully and mind _lessl_ y. 

 Johnny’s teeth slid back and forth. When he finally opened his mouth, all that came out was “You look really stupid wearing that in public.”

 Daniel muttered an Italian curse under his breath. 

“I mean, it’s better than the usual, like, pinstripe suits with a toothpick hanging out of your mouth, but still stupid.”

 “We were kinda pressed for time. At least I put shoes on.”

 “Having your weird-ass feet out would be even funnier, man.”

 “I _don’t_ have weird feet.”

 “I got kind of uh, up-close? I know what I’m talking about.”

 

“…I’m sorry, Johnny.”

 “Yeah, whatever, it was legal.”

 "No, not about _that._ The aromatherapy.”

 “Just don’t ever say that word again, and we’re good.”

 “I wish I could make you see how sorry I am.”

 “Make yourself useful, then. Go get me some grindage from the vending machine,” he snipped, tossing a few quarters in Daniel’s hand. “Fritos, garçon.”

 “Fifty cents? What do you think this is—Woolworth’s? This isn’t enough.”

 “For a bag of Fritos? What the hell,” Johnny said, stiffly extending a dollar.

 The worm took his little walk, and did exactly as instructed.Back in the day, Johnny probably could’ve sent him limping over to the concession stand to buy him a 2nd place corndog. “You, um…” he mumbled when Daniel came back. “You can get yourself a coffee or something.”

 "Do I look like I need caffeination right now?”

 “Nevermind.” Johnny snatched the bag to avoid grazing his hand. “So how long should I wait for news on Robby before I start slamming doctors into walls for information?” he asked, tearing open the bag.

 Daniel sat back down in the chair beside him. “Yeah, how ‘bout you not do that? Did you call Sharon?”

 He didn’t bother to correct him with _Shannon._ “Left three messages. That’s my new limit, she’s on her own.” Johnny was hunched over his Fritos with his legs man-spread in a denim ‘V’.Unconsciously, Daniel found himself sitting the same way.

 “You shouldn’t eat stuff like that, y’know. It’s practically radioactive.All those unpronounceable ingredients, you know what they are? Beaver secretions.”

 “Do you ever get tired of listening to yourself, LaRusso? I bet you’re that guy who keeps yammering on when someone’s half asleep.”

 Daniel sighed, remembering Mr. Miyagi’s endurance on the 16 hour flight to Okinawa. “Yeah.”

 “Nailed it.”

 “Johnny, look…I feel like we had a…breakthrough today. Am I right?”

 “I fink you wash too mush Dr. Phil, Rhonda,” Johnny crunched.“Yeah, everything was decent, and then something happened with Robby again, and it all went to shit.”

 “No, it didn’t. We got through it. You shored me up when I was losing it. I won’t forget that. I think the only guy who could ever steady me was Mr. Miyagi.”

 Johnny remembered Daniel’s intensely trusting expression at the dojo, and shoved Fritos into his mouth.“…myeah.”

 “And you and Robby were something else. That was some hard core fathering. I hope you know that." 

“…LaRusso, the last time he had a reaction…” He kneaded the back of his neck roughly. “It was because _I_ fucked up. A stupid mistake, too, but it didn’t matter. I lost my weekend visits with him. I didn’t fight it. Seeing Robby like that beat the shit out of me, and I didn’t want to see it ever again. Made up a little soapbox speech that allergies are pussy bullshit. Didn’t help much.”

 “I’m sorry.”

 “…I, um…keep thinking about him grabbing my hand earlier. I don’t think he’s ever done that before. Must be all your huggy-feely stuff rubbing off on him.”

 “Nah. More like nitty-gritty stuff. And anything he picks up from me is Mr. Miyagi’s influence, not mine. I’m just the messenger, that’s all.”

 “You can give yourself a teenage mustache hair more credit than that, man.”

 Daniel didn’t even pick up on that as a dig at his scruffy face.“No, I mean it. I just pass it along, it’s not me.”

 “It’s you, LaRusso,” Johnny said in a quiet voice. “…you did good.”

 The breath Daniel had taken during that compliment hadn’t been let out yet. Mr. Miyagi would shake his head at that, tell him _no life,_ but at the moment Daniel disagreed.“Johnny, I…I’m…I’m just gonna—ask somebody. Nurse’s station. The 4-1-1,” he managed to string together.

 He got up from his chair stiffly as if the gi had been starched into oblivion. He didn’t get anywhere. A woman in thick glasses was approaching him, tucking her hair behind her ear.

 Tracey Blatt’s Halloween wish had come true. “Danny! What a treat! Are you here to visit the student body president with appendicitis? In a _karate gi_? That’s so thoughtful—he loves Dragonball-Z! It’ll brighten his day.”

 “Uh, no, Tracey, a-actually a student of _mine_ was rushed here during class, hence the getup…”

  _Hence?_ Johnny grumbled in his head. _Hence you’re a fucking Poindexter._

 “…He had a bit of an adverse reaction to some chakra-balancing oils…a very rare thing,” Daniel went on nervously.Johnny wasn’t adding anything brutally candid. Was _he_ feeling okay?

 “Oh my gosh, your _karateka_ is in my thoughts and prayers,” she bowed. “But, you know, you still _could_ stop by Ronaldo’s room and do a fusion dance.”

 Daniel had spent enough time on the couch during Anthony’s animé marathons to know all about this topic. “Heh, yeah, too bad I don’t have anyone to fuse with, right?”

 She elbowed him as a hint. “Oh, I think you do!”

 Johnny rolled his eyes, feeling invisible as these two dinguses laughed and chatted. This was definitely some important, King of the PTA sort of relationship. Well, at least for LaRusso. This woman wanted to jump in his gi pants— talk about beaver secretions. Johnny’s eyes narrowed, which Daniel took notice of.

"Hey, Tracey, this is my student’s dad. You remember Johnny Lawrence, right?”

 “Wait a minute…Tracey…?” Johnny waved a finger in the air. “Susan’s little sister, class of ’86? I _knew_ it was you!” He bracketed her in an unrequited hug and tossed a smirk at Daniel. “You still have those almond locks,” he rubbed in harder. 

 She folded her arms tightly.“Oh. Johnny-elbow-heard-round-the-world-Lawrence.”

 Daniel liked that, he’d have to remember that one. He smirked back at him. “The legend himself.” 

 “You know something, people like _you_ were one of the reasons that I decided to become a school counselor. You gave me a terrible nickname that stuck so badly. Does ‘Bag-Your-Face-Trace’ ring a bell? Susan still calls me that when we fight.”

 

The incident was blurring into shape in Johnny’s mind. He had his puffy headphones over his ears, music blaring, and his voice must’ve been so loud when bestowed that name upon her.But why? There was always a reason to dislike Susan, but why her sister?

 It all came crashing back.

 He’d seen her doodling on the bleachers on a brown bag book cover, _MRS. TRACEY ANN LARUSSO._

 Young Johnny’s jaw clenched and his breath hissed from his nose.  _What’s up, Bag-Your-Face-Trace?_

 

“…..shit…I’m really sorry about that, but…at least there was the…career motivation…?” Johnny offered.

 She didn’t look amused. “Danny, I’m so sorry you have to deal with a parent who’s better suited for hockey.”

 Daniel felt more sorry for Johnny and the infinite cycle. _Then I’d come home and pretty much get bullied every day._ He wanted the contempt in her eyes for Johnny to go away. He wanted to fix everything. “Hey, Tracey, don’t worry. Everything’s cool with us. And…you might think I’m yankin’ your chain, but he also volunteers here. He dresses up like a clown for the kids,” he smiled with trustworthy brown eyes.

 Blatt softened. “…oh…well, that’s certainly a change of heart.”

 Johnny glowered at Daniel.

 She cocked her head at Johnny a little. “Does this clown have a name?”

 “Kempo,” Daniel answered for him quickly. “Kempo the…Cancer Kicker.”

 “Aw….” Blatt sighed, her hand to her heart.

 “And I’m gonna honk this guy’s nose off for making that racy commercial. It totally has my grandma wanting to buy a Ferrari. She’s on a fixed income, you big dog!” Johnny threw Daniel’s way, laying it on thick.

 “He _is_ very persuasive,” she grinned at Daniel, pushing on the bridge of her glasses. “I’ve had that Foreigner album on repeat ever since. Anyway…I have to get back to school….”

 She was waiting for Daniel to say he would walk her out, but he was smirking at Johnny.

 “…So…it was great to see you, Danny.And…apology accepted, Jack.”

 Johnny shuddered as she walked away, but he could tell that LaRusso disliked being called “Danny” just as much. “You didn’t have to do that, moron. I doubt your number one fan over there really forgives me, anyhow.”

 Daniel shook his head. “She means it. And consider it an even exchange for you not runnin’ your mouth. Although, you did get your little digs in…”

 “I did, didn’t I?”

 

They were standing face to face, close enough that their little beer and wine paunches were brushing. A humorous statement about middle age. The solid fabric of Daniel’s gi was heavy against the flimsy T-shirt over Johnny’s stomach.Johnny pushed closer at that moment, trying to get the pre-shrunk gi to give, but it resisted. Daniel, however, didn’t.

 

“Mr. Lawrence?” an older black nurse in the hall called out. 

 He turned around abruptly, snapped out of wherever he just was. “Yes! Here. Present. Please just skip to the good shit, please tell me he’s OK?”

 “He’s going to be fine.”

 “Oh my God, thank you,” Daniel said, the two men sighing heavily, checking into each other’s shoulders. They hesitated for a moment and leaned into an awkward, mutual back-pat of a hug, and then the patting hands came to rest, pulling each other in slightly.They fumbled out of the hold, and Johnny raised a triumphant fist.

"You don't have to hold back in front of me, honies, I'm a very progressive person."

Johnny and Daniel's browlines sank as they side-eyed other.

"My name’s Luanne, and I’ll be keeping Robert in line today.Not that I even have to, really- I’ve never seen such a trooper in this sort of situation. I’d like to bottle up some of that zen for myself.”

 In a quick glance, Daniel saw Johnny’s lips upturned weakly at him.

 She went on, “We gave him a little more ephedrine for hives that cropped up, and did some breathing treatments. We’d like to keep him for the night for observation, if that’s alright.”

 “You got yourself an inmate, warden,” Johnny smiled.

 “There was one thing, though, Mr. Lawrence. We have the insurance cards you provided for Robert, but the one from…” She flipped to the copy in the chart. “…LaRusso Auto Group, is terminated.  And this other plan for ‘Cobra Kay LLC’ is pretty bare-bones and isn’t gonna cover everything. The cards also had conflicting dates of birth, so it’s really throwing the front desk for a loop.”

 “Ah, crap, that’s kind of a long story,” Daniel sighed.

 “…Oh my merciful Lord…” Luanne looked around and lowered her voice. “Were you two denied family benefits for being same-sex partners? That’s illegal, you know, and I won't stand for it.”

 “Whoa—“ Daniel began, but Johnny cut him off.

 "Yeah, can you believe that? Adopt a foster kid with my broham bride and this is the thanks I get.”

 “Don’t you even worry about it, I am _on_ this. We’ll tap into social services for every last penny. It is _wonderful_ that you adopted a teenager. They really get overlooked.”

 “They do, man, absolutely,” Johnny went on. “And thanks for not being all ‘where’s his mom?’ We get that a lot.”

 Daniel tried to find words. He stammered with a pronounced blink, “—I-I can't—“

 Johnny laid his arm across Daniel’s shoulders and pinched him inconspicuously. “He’s still a little shaken up. Can we see our son now?”

 "Of course. Just finish up your Fritos, Blondie— there’s no food or beverages in the allergy ward. Except for your tasty little Eclair here, of course!” She slapped Daniel’s shoulder.

 Daniel’s face was frozen in a horrified expression as he looked back and forth between them.

 “You got it, Luanne,” Johnny thumbed up.

 “You two are so cute! I just want to dress you up and make you my little candy stripers.”

 “I look good in red,” Johnny grinned, pointing at her she she went down the hall.

 “I bet you do, baby!” she laughed.

 Johnny continued smiling as she disappeared, as Daniel kneaded his brow. “Johnny, what the hell is _wrong_ with you!”

 “You think I’m getting stuck with the bill for this? Just shut your big trap and pretend to be Mrs. Lawrence, _Danielle._  For once, someone doesn’t know who the fuck you are, and I'm making out like a bandit."

 “I would’ve taken care of the bill! I’m the one who took Robby off payroll in a fit of rage. I’m the one who poisoned him!”

 “Screw your charity, man, I don’t need your dimwit cousin holding it over my head later. You can make up a bunch of clown shit, but I can’t tell one little white lie?”

 “ _Mine_ was the little lie! What’s Robby gonna think when we’re pretending to be his two dads?”

 “Don’t worry, the kid knows his way around a con. Just be cool.  I'm not making you hump my leg or something--who does that in a hospital, anyway?" 

Daniel smooshed his face in tortured hands. "Who does _anything_ we've been doing for the past year? You know what…let's cut the shit and talk about what’s really going on.”

 “Oh, God. Nag, nag, nag, Motor Mouth. You’re nailing the act so far.”

 

“Johnny….something… _happened_ at the dojo, and we both know it.”

 

“That had everything to do with Robby, and _you_ know it.”

 “…it wasn’t just about Robby. It was about us.”

 “Screw you.”

“You did an arm-save on me when you stopped short in the car.”

 “UH, yeah, ‘cause there’s usually a chick in shotgun! Old alpha reflexes die hard.”

 “At least you didn’t cop a feel.”

 “You’re a dick.” Johnny’s phone rang with a familiar tone from the 2000’s, as Daniel rolled his eyes.“Yell-o?” Johnny answered.

 " _Sensei?_ ” Miguel barked on the line. _“Class was supposed to start a half hour ago, where the hell are you?”_

 His mouth dropped open. “Sshit, Diaz, I…I’m not gonna be able to make it in. Why didn’t you just take the lead, anyway? Show some initiative, man.”

  _“Don’t turn this around on me! What’s so damned important that you couldn’t be here?!”_

 Daniel’s expression went cold. “Johnny, I can hear that kid yellin’ at you like he’s on speaker, gimme that.” He snatched the phone away and put it up to his own ear. “Hey! Show some respect for your sensei, kid! I never would’ve dreamed of talking to mine that way.”

 Daniel hated himself for that instantly, feeling the thunder of his own voice from long ago, howling at Mr. Miyagi’s glossy eyes. _I got problems, okay? And if you’re not gonna be part of the solution, just don’t give me a hard time about it, alright? Okay?!_ ** _You got it?!_** He felt the shoji door slamming in his heart.

 Miguel knew that voice. Sensei was with LaRusso. He remembered those sloppy words the night before, the dementedly lustful things Sensei had said about his rival. Was this really happening? Sensei was skipping class to act out his little trash compactor scene?

 Right now, Miguel knew his next words could mean whether or not he ever stood a chance with Sam again.“ _I-I’m sorry, Mr. LaRusso. Can you give Sensei back the phone, please?_ ” he said, feeling like he was in 3rd grade.

 “There ya’ go, that’s how you talk to adults. Thank you. Now if you’ll excuse us, Sensei’s son is in the hospital, but luckily not because of his shoulder you ripped out of its socket-”

 Johnny was gesturing wildly across his throat. He ripped the phone out of Daniel’s hand, grabbed him by the gi and slammed him against a poster on the wall that said COULD IT BE SEPSIS?There was no one else in the waiting area to witness the swift movement, the phone skidding somewhere down the hall as Daniel gasped with shock. “What!? What the hell did I do now?”

 “You just want to fuck up everything today, don’t you. Don’t you!” he yelled in his face. “Diaz is like my kid, it’ll kill him to know I already have one!”

 “But—?“

 “Never mind that he’s the _Unaffiliated!_ All I hear is KEENE this, KEENE that, you think I wanted Miguel to find out like _this?”_

 The gi was open, showing a dark slice of Daniel’s chest.The light dusting of hair on it was jerking up and down from the roughness, from the realization that Johnny was hiding his son. Most of all, Johnny’s weight against him. “When were you going to tell him?”

 “On _my_ terms,” Johnny growled.

 “So in other words, never.”

 Johnny pressed him harder into the wall.

 “Careful now, Jack. This is spousal abuse,” Daniel griped, amazed by his own gall.

 “I want a fucking divorce.”

 “Really. You can’t seem to keep your hands to yourself.”

 “Says the oily salesman trying to fuck everybody through their TV’s.”

 Daniel shivered, knowing full well what he was about to do. He was going to spit in the cobra’s nest, as usual. “Again, with the commercial,” he smirked. “Believe me, I really didn’t want to look the whole Valley up and down and beg them to come down to the showroom. But it worked. Somebody actually went storming down there, leaned all over my car, pinned me to the lot…really went above and beyond the intent for the average consumer, I’d say.”

 “You’re dead.”

 Johnny grabbed him by the bonsai emblem and pushed him through the door of a one-person bathroom. When he locked the door, his eyes were met by walnut brown ones with headlights in them.More fear than he’d ever seen before, until a daring look slowly returned. If Johnny had a cobra’s hood, its tight ribs would’ve been fanning out. He grabbed LaRusso by the gi, almost lifting him off the ground- a bully tableau so timeless it needed its own commemorative statue in every high school.

 

It _was_ a classic tableau, until Johnny seized Daniel’s mouth with his own.

 

He waited for Daniel to struggle like Ali at the country club, recoiling as they swayed to swanky jazz in his head.

 

Instead, Johnny found nothing but willingness- not a rigid bonsai, but a limber, leaning willow. Daniel always went all-in on a first kiss, holding back nothing, and this one wasn’t any different. The tension of the past few days exploded in a moan without borders between one gritty voice and the other. 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I love getting comments and chatting in the comments, so fire away.


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